Your wife!
Pam. A little better.
Sostra. Grant it, Heav’n!
—But why d’ye weep, and why are you so sad?
Pam. Nothing, good mother.
Sostra. What was all that bustle?
Tell me, did pain attack her suddenly?
Pam. It did.
Sostra. And what is her complaint?
Pam. A fever.